


Notting Harbour

by hexmionegranger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Relationships, Background Slash, Black Hermione Granger, Brief mention of sexual assault, Comedy, F/M, Fluff, I have no idea what I'm doing with my life, I hope he's alright, Marcus is a terror, Notting Hill, Post-War, Romance, Slurs, Theo has a crush, Theo is just awkward Hugh Grant tbh, Theo owns a bookstore, Theomione, fuck I have no idea how to write Theo, just one, kind of??, like it's just really sappy, no literally that's it that's the whole story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 21:39:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9404006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexmionegranger/pseuds/hexmionegranger
Summary: Theo Nott purchased a bookstore on the seaside, after the war. It was supposed to be a source of solace, of quiet contemplation, far away from the hectic world of Wizarding London. Far away from prying eyes, from nosy reporters, and the prejudiced gazes of his peers.All of that was true. At least, it was until Hermione Granger walked into his shop, looking for obscure books on agriculture, dragging a trail of reporters in her wake, and stealing his heart - utterly and completely.or: more or less the plot of Notting Hill, honestly.





	1. Brief, Dreamy, Kind Delight

**_WAR HEROINE CAUGHT CHEATING ON LONG TERM BOYFRIEND WITH FORMER CLASSMATE_ **

Theo barely paid the headline of _The_ _Daily Prophet_ any mind as he unlocked the front door of his shop. He fumbled slightly with his coffee but managed not to spill any as he kicked the door shut behind him to keep out the cool March breeze, juggling his wand into his hand to turn the lights on in the store.

Glancing up, he let out a small sigh as he looked around the crowded shop. The front half was small, floor to ceiling shelves stocked mostly with antique muggle books that rarely sold. He pushed his way past the shelves, dodging around a box that he kept telling himself he had to get around to unpacking, and then flicked his wand again at a blank piece of wall near the back. A doorway shimmered into existence and he pushed that open as well, dropping _The_ _Prophet_ on a table in the middle of the room as he made his way to his desk at the back.

The second half of the store was a little larger, and was even more full of books than the front half – if that was even possible. This half of the store held the rare magical texts, books he had gone to nearly the ends of the earth to find. It was probably strange, to keep them here in a tiny shop in a seaside down in Southern England, but there was something about the fresh salty air and the small village that had called to him, and so here he was.

As Theo shed his coat and pulled open the rest of his mail, he thought briefly back over the past nearly year. The war had ended ten months ago now, and London was still in shambles. His friends had scattered – Draco had gone back to Wiltshire, Pansy had moved to Inverness of all places, and Blaise had gone to Italy to be with his mother. And things in London hadn’t been ideal. Theo hadn’t been marked and was never a Death Eater. His father, however, was rotting in Azkaban and eventually the looks and stares and people whispering “ _is that Nott’s son? What’s he doing walking free_?” had become too much, and he had run to the seaside.

At least here in this small village, people were friendly. Once he had proven that he was a good neighbour – brought by baked goods, flirted with the older ladies, opened the store – people had become much more amenable. It helped that Notting Harbour was a special mix of Wizard and Muggle communities meshed together, many Wizard shops disguised as their Muggle equivalents.

It was a quiet morning at the shop, more or less. Theo unpacked an order, flicked through a new book he’d just gotten in about how different periods of the Middle Ages influenced spell construction, sold two Beatrix Potter books to a lovely middle-aged Muggle woman, and then slipped out of the shop to get lunch.

Nearly an hour after lunch, his door chimed again. Theo slipped out of the office-cum-Wizarding Books shop. “Anything I can help you wi-” his sentence dropped off as he turned around a shelf and his eyes landed on none other than the war heroine herself, golden-girl Hermione Granger.

Hermione looked almost uncertain, standing in the small entrance way of the shop. She had a large golden scarf wrapped around her neck, and it made her dark skin nearly glow in the flickering shop lighting. Her bushy curly hair was pulled back into a rather messy bun, tightly coiled curls springing out of it at various different angles. She glanced up at Theo’s voice and seemed to freeze in place as well.

Theo cleared his throat carefully and decided it would probably be better if he didn’t acknowledge it. She must remember him from school – they had been in classes together for six years, though he had kept to himself for the most part during class. But she looked so uncomfortable that he couldn’t bring himself to say something about who she was, and so he finished his sentence. “You’ll probably want the back room, then.” He said, and she nodded slowly and he turned, heading to the back of the shop and hoping she followed.

Theo entered the room and then turned to lean up against his desk, watching as she passed through the doors. Her eyes lit up almost in amusement and then she glanced over to the table, eyes landing on his copy of the _Prophet_ , headline flashing up at her.

Hermione winced away from it but her finger twitched towards it as well, and Theo said nothing as she picked it up and opened it fully so she could see the pictures. He watched her face fall and she quickly folded the paper and dropped it back down on the desk with a finality that he recognized clearly. She took a deep breath in, exhaled it slowly, and then looked directly at him.

“I’m looking for any books you have, the older the better, on agricultural magic. Preferably,” she paused, raising a brow at him almost challengingly, “2nd century BC or earlier.”

Theo let out a low whistle at her request and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Interesting. Ancient wandless agricultural magic? Why do I suspect this has nothing to do with backyard tomato plants?”

Hermione said nothing, just smiled over at him, and Theo nodded as he pushed himself off his desk. “Right.” He said, finally, and then headed off down one narrow aisle. He returned less than five minutes later with three tomes in his arms. “As I’m sure you’re aware, it’s impossible to get hands on anything close to original manuscripts from that time period. But these are incredibly faithful recreations, from what I’ve been told, themselves written sometime in the 1200s and then reprinted again into these copies in the late 1800s.”

Theo set the books carefully down on the small table in the middle of the room and stepped back so Hermione could inspect them. She took one look at the first book and scoffed, moving it away from the pile. “This one is rubbish.” She muttered, not even looking back to it. “He’s a complete crock, _Herrard of Landsberg_.” Hermione scoffed the name out and then cracked open the second book. She flipped a few pages and her mouth tilted up at the corners, then she set it off to the side. She did the same with the second, and then, pleased with her choices, looked up at Theo. “How much for these two?”

Theo paused for a moment, wondering if she would balk at the price. “Twelve hundred galleons.”

Hermione pulled out her purse, digging a tiny bag out of it. She cast a quick charm over it and then, nodding with satisfaction, handed it to Theo. He pulled the bag open and glanced in, then reached down into it, nearly up to his elbow.

“Undetectable extension charm?” He asked, and she smiled just barely.

“Yes.” Hermione watched as Theo cast a charm and the books wrapped up in paper, and then Hermione picked them up. She turned and was nearly at the door to the main part of the shop when she paused and flashed him a strange look. “You undercharged me.” She said, no hint of emotion in her voice.

Theo took a moment to compose his answer, and then shrugged. “If you find anything of use in either of them, you can credit me on your discovery.”

Hermione laughed at this, and then she was gone, out through the Muggle shop and back into the street.

Theo nearly collapsed down into his desk chair, letting out a massive sigh that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. There was something _about_ her, about the way she had pulled back from the paper and opened it anyways, about the way her lips quirked in that way that screamed _challenge_ , and her tinkling laugh as she floated out of the shop.

And then, of course. The paper, which he _accio_ ’d over to look at himself. On the front page was a large photo, Hermione walking towards a plain brownstone building. There was a man beside her, his hand on her lower back, and as they walked he leaned his head into towards her and then she tossed her own head back and laughed. In the next shot, the man was pulling open the door and Hermione glanced around before she slipped inside, and he did the same as well.

It certainly wasn’t _clear_ evidence that Hermione was doing anything, though it didn’t look particularly positive either. Theo was sure he knew the man, but he couldn’t place him, and it took a minute of skimming the article before he found the name.

 _Neville Longbottom_. Well.  _That_ didn’t sound right.

* * *

Theo was out for his typical morning coffee break the next morning when he ran into her again.

Literally.

Maybe he wasn’t looking where he was going, or she wasn’t, but either way they collided and Theo shouted “ _fuck_ ” as his coffee splashed up over both of them.

Hermione had yelped and jumped backwards from him but it was too late, and by the time Theo, recovered, they were both covered in coffee.

“Oh shit, Granger, fuck. I am so sorry.” Theo said, stepping closer and then wincing again at the way she seemed to still at his actions. “Do you want… I can _scorgify_ it…”

“It’ll still stain.” Hermione mumbled, moving to pull the now damp shirt slightly away from her body with a grimace. She reached up and touched the ends of her hair which were also covered in coffee now and dropped her hand with a sigh. “And my hair can’t… it’ll be even worse than usual.”

Theo glanced around quickly and then ran a hand up through his hair. “Look. I get if you don’t trust me. But I live in the apartment over the shop, it’s literally right there.” He pointed over and then looked back at her. “You can have a quick shower; I can lend you a shirt…”

Hermione frowned at him and looked down again, then glanced back down the sheet. “I…” She seemed to consider this again and sighed once more. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You’re not.” He reassured her, not entirely sure why he’d made the offer at all. But she looked so upset, covered in coffee, and he really couldn’t be part of making her hair any worse than it already was, and so his hands were tied. And, he had some strange desire to spend another few minutes with her, though he couldn’t figure out exactly why.

They walked over to Theo’s apartment door in silence and he led her up the stairs, pausing before he opened the door. “My flatmate is a little…” He paused, then laughed once. “Better not to ask questions.”

Hermione raised a brow but followed him into the apartment. It was small, but tastefully decorated, and surprisingly lacking in green décor. She followed him through the hallway and he was just starting to point out where the bathroom was when another man half stumbled into the kitchen where they were standing. The other man was wearing boxers and tube socks and literally nothing else, and he walked right past the two of them to the fridge.

“Theo, yo, knock on the door if the silencing charms don’t hold, will you? I mean, I put them up, but you know how he is. And he started doing this fucking thing with his tongue that just makes me _scream_ –”

“Marcus.” Theo jumped in, and the man stopped, beer bottle at his lips and half the bottle already empty. “We have _company_.” He stressed.

Marcus – Flint, Hermione filled in – turned his head to the side and took barely half a look at Hermione. “Yeah, sure. Hi.” He turned back to Theo and grinned nearly wolfishly. “All I’m saying is – knock or rub one off to us _quietly_.” And then he turned and left the room, leaving Theo gaping after him and Hermione rather shocked.

“That was…” She began, and Theo laughed, almost nervously.

“He needed a place nearby – there’s a big Quidditch League practice grounds around here. And he pays the rent, so I can’t really complain.”

Hermione nodded and then looked back down at her shirt. “Shower?” She asked, and Theo nodded quickly.

“Right. Come on then. I’ll drop you a new shirt just inside the door.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Hermione came back down the stairs. Theo had been sitting on one of the couches in the living room and he stood up when he heard her footsteps, and anything he meant to say stuck in his throat when he saw her.

Hermione was standing at the bottom of the stairs, her hair significantly flatter, weighed down by the water from the shower. She was wearing the shirt that Theo had left her, a dark green t-shirt that was four sizes too big and nearly hanging off of her small frame. She already looked happier and Theo watched her for a moment, waiting for her to notice him.

“I, um, need to go.” Hermione eventually said, and Theo inhaled but nodded as he skimmed his eyes across her form once more.

“Right, uh-”

“Thank you.” She interjected, before he could say anything else. “For letting me use your shower.”

Theo nodded and followed her towards the door, still trying to figure out exactly what was happening, and why he felt like he wanted her to stay, wanted to know more about her.

Hermione pulled the door open and Theo followed her right up to the threshold of his apartment steps. She smiled at him and went to leave and then Hermione turned quickly and pressed a kiss against his cheek. Theo froze completely as she backed away from him, and she smiled as she stepped away from him. “Goodbye, Theo.” She said, with another smile, and then she was gone and Theo was pressing his fingers against his cheek, wondering what, exactly, had just happened.

* * *

Two days later, Theo glanced up from his desk when the bell on his front door chimed and his quill froze over the parchment when he spotted dark curly hair around the edge of a bookshelf. Setting the quill down, he stood and made his way through the shop, stopping a few steps away from Hermione.

“Hello again.” He greeted, watching the way she reacted to realizing he had spotted her. She turned her entire body towards him and her eyebrows shot up but instead of reacting further, she lifted her hand up. She was holding his shirt, clearly washed and folded carefully.

Theo stepped forward to take it out of her hand. “Thanks.”

Hermione nodded and stepped back a little bit, glancing around the shop quickly. “Thank you for letting me borrow it.” She paused, looking over his shoulder into the back room. “Actually, I was wondering if you had any books on mixing charm work and potions?” He was about to open his mouth when the grin returned to her face – the one that meant _challenge_. “I’ve read everything on the subject published after 1412.”

Theo closed his mouth quickly and paused for a minute, before heading into the back of the shop.

Hermione had turned to inspect a row of books about manners that looked to have been written in the 1800s when the bell above the door chimed again. An older man in a hat entered the store and glanced over her Hermione. She looked back, waiting to see if he would react to her. He didn’t, and instead moved towards the counter of the store. She figured he must be Muggle, for his eyes to skim over her so quickly without any flicker of recognition. It was refreshing.

“Right. So I found two that might interest you. Both from the late eleventh century. This one specifically has some interesting information on fairy magic and how-” Theo’s voice died as he entered the main room and spotted the man, and cleared his throat. “How _myths_ about fairy magic influenced public opinion of…of...”

“Women.” Hermione filled in quickly, recognizing Theo’s cover.

“Exactly.” He agreed, then turned his head. “Good afternoon, Mr. Dorsey. What can I do for you today?” Theo was holding the books a little closer to his chest so the man couldn’t see, and Hermione watched his fingers flick behind his back, heard the door that was out of sight from their current position click shut.

Impressive.

The man – Mr. Dorsey – flashed Theo a grin. He flicked his eyes over to Hermione, and then back to Theo, and then cleared his throat. “ _Never give all_ _the heart, for love will hardly seem worth thinking of to passionate women if it seem certain, and they never dream that it fades out from kiss to kiss…_ ”

Theo grinned in response and Hermione watched as he responded. “ _For everything that’s lovely is but a brief, dreamy, kind delight._ ” He laughed and stepped forward to shake the man’s hand. “Yeats? Is that the best you’ve got for me?”

Mr. Dorsey laughed and returned the handshake. “Not every day can be a unique challenge, Theo. And who is your pretty friend?” The man turned and Hermione felt her cheeks heat at the introduction.

“Oh,” Theo jumped in quickly. “She isn’t really a-”

Hermione had already taken the man’s hand, and shook it slightly. “Hermione Granger, pleased to meet you, sir.”

“William Dorsey, at your service. Well.” He let go of her hand and turned to Theo, flashing him a grin. “No time to stay and chat today, my boy. In fact, I’m already quite late. Tomorrow, perhaps, we shall have time to linger a while.” And then, with a nod to each of them, Mr. Dorsey had turned and hurried from the shop.

Theo sighed as he set the books down on the register. “I’m sorry about that. William usually drops by to chat about literature, and I suppose he thought he was… intruding. Though I can’t entirely say why, as you _are_ a paying customer…”

Hermione was looking at him now with a raised eyebrow. “You know Yeats?” She asked instead of responding.

Once more, Theo turned towards her and a smile quirked at his lips. “I do own a bookstore.”

“Right. But Yeats is a Muggle author, I’m sure you’re aware.”

Theo frowned at this and looked away. “Look, Granger. We didn’t know each other particularly well in school. And I’m sure you have your ideas about what us Slytherins are like. But not all of us are still locked into the sins of our fathers.”

Hermione almost flushed, and instead she nodded, looking down at the books. “How much for these two?”

Theo shrugged. “Eight hundred.”

This time, Hermione furrowed her brow. “If you keep undercharging all of your customers, your business isn’t going to do very well.”

“Make it up to me then.” Theo said, almost without realizing it. When Hermione opened her mouth, he spoke again. “Dinner.”

Hermione glanced down at the books and back up at him, seeming to weigh this option over. Theo winced, realizing how awful it must have sounded. Undercharge a girl and expect her to go out with you to make up the rest. “Sorry, that was out of-”

“I’m going back to London tomorrow, so it will have to be tonight.”

Theo swallowed the rest of his sentence, and paused, nodding. “Of course, yes. Tonight. Come to my flat around seven and we can go from here?”

While Theo spoke, Hermione had dug into her purse again, once more charming a small bag and then checking the contents with a quick glance. She placed it on the counter and picked up the books, slipping them gently into her purse. “See you at seven then, Theo.”

And before he had a chance to say anything else, she was gone.

* * *

The doorbell rang through his apartment at exactly seven o’clock, and Theo rushed forward to pull it open, already a little nervous about the entire situation. He hadn’t exactly meant to ask her to dinner, but she had been standing there and lecturing him about business practices and looking so damn beautiful and it had hit the point where there was simply nothing else he could do.

Theo pulled the door open and let her into the flat, flashing her a smile. Hermione looked stunning in a simple pale blue dress with a thin string of pearls around her neck. It had warmed up a little and so she was only wearing a thin sweater overtop, and she’d done something to her hair that pulled it back a little from her face but kept the wild look he’d gotten used to.

“Hello.” Theo said, as he gestured her inside.

Hermione smiled back. “Hello.” She paused, looking around. “Where are we going for dinner?”

Theo winced at this question and glanced down at his hands. “Feel free to say no,” he said, quickly. “I completely forgot that I was supposed to be going to a dinner party tonight. Every six months we all get together and catch up, you see. But I can _floo_ them and cancel. It’s not… that big of a deal.”

Unfortunately, it _was_ kind of a big deal. Since all of his friends had scattered after the war, their dinner parties seemed to be the few times they were all in one place. But he couldn’t exactly bring Hermione to one.

Could he?

“Who’s going to be there?” She asked, leaning back against a kitchen counter and flicking her eyes over him in a way that seemed more appraising than anything.

“Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy, Greg Goyle. But they’re… it’s been a year, they’re not kids anymore. None of them would try and… hurt you.” Theo said, holding his breath.

Hermione considered this, furrowing her brow as she thought it over. “I don’t want you to miss your dinner party.” She finally decided, and stood fully, brushing off her desk. “I’ll be fine.”

Theo gaped down at her. “Granger,” he paused, frowned, started again. “Hermione. You don’t have to do this, you know. They’ll… probably understand, if I cancel.”

With some finality, Hermione shook her head. “No. We’re going to go. If they don’t like me, well,” she paused, pursing her lips. “Then it will be up to you to decide if this date was worth it. Lead the way, Theo.”

Sighing, Theo nodded. She was right. If they still hated her – although he thought it would probably be alright, if uncomfortable – then he had to work out if it was worth dating someone who none of his friends could stand.

* * *

Theo and Hermione stepped out of the floo into a reasonably sized flat that, from the decorations, clearly belonged to Pansy Parkinson. They were alone in a smaller ante-room and Theo took the moment to glance down at Hermione. She was clearly steeling herself, pulling her shoulders back and carefully arranging her face.

“We really don’t have to do this.” He said, one more time trying to give her an option to turn and run.

“ _The snake which cannot cast its skin has to die_.” Hermione quoted, pausing.

Theo couldn’t stop the grin which tugged at his lips. “ _The minds which are prevented from changing their opinions; they cease to be mind_.”

“Nietzsche.” Hermione said with a matching grin tugging at her lips.

“Perhaps,” Theo said, stepping just a bit closer to her in the small room, “one day I won’t surprise you quite so much.”

Hermione shook her head at this. “That would be a tragedy of the greatest proportions.”

Theo was about to respond when he heard someone calling his name.

“Theo! You’re already _quite_ late, darling! Don’t just dawdle in the hallway like a house elf!”

Hermione’s shoulders stiffened immediately and Theo sighed, glancing at the ceiling once and praying to a god he didn’t believe in for a quick death so he wouldn’t have to face this party at all. “Come on,” he coaxed, and slipped his arm through hers, leading her into the house.

“ _There_ you are!” Pansy gushed, stepping forward through the kitchen as Theo appeared in the doorway. Then Hermione stepped up beside him and she stopped suddenly.

Theo glanced down at the top of Hermione’s head and then back over to Pansy. “I brought a date.”

Pansy glanced over, raking her eyes over Hermione’s face, inspecting and processing. Theo watched as Pansy slipped easily from slightly horrified into an expression that he now knew as distinctly Slytherin, as ‘store this for later when it’s important.’

Hermione lifted a hand to shake one of Pansy’s, clearly unwilling to be intimidated by the way the other witch was watching her. With a grin that bordered on catlike, Pansy extended her own hand and shook Hermione’s carefully.

“Hermione.” Pansy greeted.

Hermione grinned back. “Pansy.” She replied, and Theo let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

“Come on, darlings, the boys are just through here.”

The boys were Draco, Blaise, and Greg, and each of them looked far too content in their rather uncomfortable looking dining chairs.

“Boys,” Pansy called, voice thick with syrup and amusement. “Theo brought a _date_.”

“A date!” Blaise responded, sitting up a little straighter. “Well well. And here we were thinking you’d given up on women all together, my friend.”

When Hermione entered the room after the two Slytherins, the jovial mood dropped off and finally, Theo cleared his throat.

“Blaise, Draco, Greg. This is _Hermione_. Hermione, this is Blaise, Draco, and Greg.”

Draco was coughing slightly on what Hermione assumed to be firewhiskey, based on the colour of the liquid in the glass he was holding. Blaise had an eyebrow raised and appeared to be appraising her. Greg had a rather vacant looking expression on his face, and he was the first to stand, reaching a hand over to shake Hermione’s.

Hermione returned the gesture, tried not to act surprised that it was _Gregory Goyle_ who made the first move, and then sat into the chair Theo pulled out for her and tried her best to settle into the strange meal.

* * *

It _was_ a strange meal. There wasn’t a single moment of silence among the five friends, conversations flowed effortlessly into one another with the participants barely stopping to catch a breath. They tossed barbs at each other without pausing to allow the each other to recover, and Blaise and Theo seemed to be engaged in an ongoing game of who could trip the other up first with the most obscure quote – which actually explained quite a lot.

For the most part, Hermione watched. It was a dynamic she hadn’t been expecting among the group, though truthfully she hadn’t had much time to develop an expectation at all. Theo glanced at her too frequently, checking to see if she was holding up alright amongst the chaos. Finally, she reached a hand over to pat his knee and he relaxed considerably, and Hermione tried not to delight in the way a simple touch could change his demeanor so drastically.

“So,” Draco said, at one point. He was staring at Hermione now, watching the way she leant back in her chair and sipped on the wine she’d been poured, clearly contemplating something. “How’s your weasel?” When the entire table fell silent and all heads turned to Draco, he smirked and glanced down at his own glass, feigning embarrassment. “Oh, sorry, your _ex_ -weasel.”

Theo turned his head to Hermione, biting his lip. He knew this was a bad idea. For Draco to bring up something like that at a meal – it was so clearly a power move, a way to remind Hermione that she was no longer in the lion’s den but the viper pit instead.

She swallowed the mouthful of wine she’d been drinking and barely missed a beat. “I’m not sure – perhaps you should ask Pansy.” And then she turned her head to the other woman at the table who was choking on her own wine, patting a hand against her chest, cheeks flushed red and free hand clenching into a fist.

“How did you-” Pansy sputtered.

Hermione grinned, almost deviously. “Parkinson, I know _everything_ that happens with my friends.” She paused, and set her wine glass down. “Can you direct me to the bathroom?”

Hermione had barely been gone a minute when all heads swivelled to Theo.

“How the _fuck_ did you end up bringing _Hermione Granger_ to our dinner party?” Blaise asked, voice half filled with awe and the other half with suspicion.

Theo shrugged. “It’s a bit of a story, but, she came into the shop and here we are.”

Greg dropped his fork. “Sorry, that’s Hermione _Granger_?”

Draco groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Obviously, Greg.”

“Are you shagging her, Theo?” Pansy asked, turning her entire body towards her friend, curiosity thick in her eyes.

Theo smirked. “Are _you_ shagging Ron Weasley?” He retorted, and Pansy gasped and huffed and turned immediately away from him. Hermione re-entered the room then, and the Slytherins slowly slipped back into their earlier conversation and, once more, she was able to sit back and simply observe.

* * *

“Thank you for coming with me.”

Theo and Hermione had just left Pansy’s apartment and _floo_ ’d back to his, and they were now standing awkwardly in the living room looking at each other.

“It was… interesting.” Hermione admitted with a small smile. Theo laughed, tossing his head back as he did so.

“I can’t believe Draco would bring up-”

Hermione shook her head to cut him off. “Don’t. I just… don’t want to talk about it, or think about it. Everyone is just so interested in who I’m ‘sleeping’ with no one cares about anything I have to say or do and… Let’s just drop it.”

Theo nodded again, looking around the room. “So, what would you like to do?”

Hermione sighed as she glanced down at her watch. “I really should be getting back to my hotel room. I have a pretty early meeting tomorrow morning and I wouldn’t want to be falling asleep in the middle of it.”

“Right.” Theo paused, looking back at the fireplace. “Do you want to _floo_ to your hotel?”

“No, actually, it’s pretty close. I was going to walk, enjoy the nice weather.”

It was probably the wine in his system, but Theo couldn’t seem to help himself. “I’ll walk you.”

Hermione blinked up at him, but she smiled again softly and nodded. “Okay, Theo.” And together, they headed out of his apartment.

* * *

It really was a quick walk back to where she was staying and too soon they were standing in front of the door to her hotel. They’d chatted the entire walk back, about Muggle literature and obscure books and the merits of old bookbinding versus the newer techniques and then Hermione was sighing and looking up at a door.

“This is me, then.” She said, glancing over to Theo.

Theo smiled down at her. “I’m glad you took a chance on me.”

Hermione flushed slightly and shrugged. “It wasn’t much of a chance, seemed like a pretty obvious decision to me.”

Theo laughed softly and stepped a little closer to her. “Will you see me again? Dinner tomorrow, perhaps? I can take you somewhere fancy.”

It took her a minute to think this over, then her forehead creased slightly in a frown. “I can’t, tomorrow.” Theo’s face started to fall and she smiled, lifting a hand to press on his cheek. “Not for dinner. How about lunch?”

Theo stepped closer again and now they were only inches apart, and his grin lit up the whole street. “Lunch it is. Come by the shop whenever you’re free and we’ll go.”

Hermione nodded and before she could step back, Theo lifted a hand to rest on her hip and pressed their lips together. Hermione leaned instinctively in towards him and they kissed for a long minute before finally she pulled away.

“Goodnight, Theo.” She whispered, and before he had a chance to say anything else she had slipped inside and he was left standing on the step, his cheeks flushed and his lips nearly tingling and a fluttering feeling in his stomach that definitely spelled trouble.

* * *

Theo chose a small French Wizarding bistro near the bookstore for their lunch. It, like most of the other businesses in the area, had a Muggle front, but the waiter clearly knew Theo and seated them both in a separate room that was a little quieter but no less busy.

“Notting Harbour has become a real tourist destination for Wizards,” Theo explained with a small smile. “We’re kind of an excellent example of how the two populations can live together in harmony.”

Lunch went well, for the most part. Their conversation continued to be effortless, and Hermione loved how different it was to finally speak to someone who could keep up with her, who she didn’t have to alter her speech patterns for or determine if a reference was well enough known before she said it. A conversation where she didn’t have to expect blank looks and head shakes and the topic being changed before she even said what she fully meant.

It was a breath of fresh air and she was relishing in it.

And then.

There was a table close to them them with a few men sitting around it, and they were speaking loudly enough that their words filtered across the room clearly.

“Did you see _The Prophet_ today?”

“Yeah the Magpies won-”

“No, you dunce. _Granger_.”

Hermione swallowed and Theo looked up at her, searching her face and staying quiet so they could hear what was coming next.

“Yeah. Skeeter published another picture of her, making out with some Death Eater bloke. She’s here in town looks like.”

Hermione winced up at Theo apologetically. Theo shook his head to say he didn’t mind - though there was a look in his eyes that said otherwise - and was about to tell her not to worry about it when the men continued.

“God, what a whore. Did you see that picture of her with, what’s his name, Longbottom? Bet he must be a freak in the sack – why else would she shag him?”

“Mm, have you seen that arse though? I’d get a leg over.” The group of men burst into laughter around them.

Theo snapped. He stood up from the table and was standing in front of them before Hermione had a chance to tell him not to bother.

“Gentlemen, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. Considering you were nearly shouting.” He stated, peering down at them from where they stood.

One of the men laughed. “Ay, mate. You agree with us then? That Granger is totally-”

“A human being deserving of respect? A person who shouldn’t have to be talked about like that?”

Then men laughed again and one of them shook his head. “What’re you then, a fag? Would have to be to not want a piece of-”

“Theo,” he heard from behind him, and the man stopped talking as Hermione stepped up beside them. Theo turned around and grimaced at the look on her face – her brows were furrowed and he could see the lines of hurt in her pursed lips, her shoulders were too straight and if he looked closely he could almost see the ways her eyes glistened.

But then, she turned to the table fully, placed a hand on top of Theo’s, and shook her heads as the men’s laughter died and voices dropped.

“I’d just like to apologize for my friend,” she began, turning to smile sweetly up at Theo. “You see, he doesn’t do very well with idiots.”

Hermione turned back to the men, raising her brow as they all stayed quiet. “No response? That’s alright. You know what they say about men with small brains.”

And then she turned on her heel and headed out of the restaurant. It only took Theo a moment before he laughed triumphantly and followed her out, dropping a handful of galleons on their table before they stepped into the clear sunlight.

“That was brilliant, Hermione.” He laughed, watching as she grinned back at him.

“I really shouldn’t have said anything. It’s always better to ignore bullies. You can’t change the opinion of small men.”

Theo shook his head and turned towards her, lifting a hand and placing it against her cheek. “I thought it was incredible.”

Hermione flushed under his touch but stepped backwards. “I’m sorry to run off on our lunch, but I’ve got another meeting lined up and I think I better be going.”

Theo glanced around the street to make sure no one was near by before stepping closer to her again. “Are you sure you can’t stay just a little longer?”

Hermione hesitated for a moment but shook her head. “No, I really do have to get going.”

Theo caught her hand and tugged her into a small alley way next to the restaurant. No place for spying reporters here – though he cast a quick notice-me-not charm just in case. “When can I see you again?” He asked, momentarily hating the needy-ness in his voice, hating that he suddenly cared so much and wanted to see her, but wholly unable to stop himself while he looked down into her large brown eyes.

“I’m not quite sure… I’ll send you an owl?”

Sighing, Theo nodded and leaned forwards, pressing a kiss to her lips. Hermione lingered, sliding a hand up over the back of his neck. Just when he started to think that maybe they could stay there all day, damn the meetings, damn the shop, she stepped backwards.

“Goodbye, Theo.” She said, entirely too softly, and then she was gone.

* * *

He got the owl the next day. Or, rather, instead of an owl, there was a piece of parchment tacked to the front of the shop.

‘ _Theo,_ ’ it began, when he finally was able to pull it off the door and open it up, discarding _The Prophet_ into a bin without a glance and settling down behind his desk.

‘ _I wanted to thank you again for the past few days. It has been lovely, getting to know you and spend time with you. So few people treat me_ normally _anymore that it’s just very refreshing when it happens._

_‘This has been so much fun, but unfortunately I’ve been neglecting my work responsibilities just a bit too much. As my partner has reminded me, we’re actually quite close to a breakthrough and I just don’t have time right now for anything, let alone what I’d like to have with you._

_‘Hopefully you can forgive me, and if you’re ever in London please let me know, it would be lovely to catch up over tea._

_xx Hermione'_

Theo grit his teeth together as he read the letter and realized what was happening. She was breaking up with him (could she break up with him if they weren’t really anything at all?) through a letter. She didn’t even have the decency to talk to him in person. Before he could think through it all, Theo balled the letter up and _incendio_ ’d it into oblivion.


	2. The Course of True Love

**_WAR HEROINE SPOTTED WITH MINISTRY OFFICIAL - LOOKING TO MOVE UP THE POLITICAL LADDER?_ **

It was two months before he saw her again. Two months of awkward dates that Pansy tried to set him up on. Two months of wondering if he should write her. Two months of trying his best to _forget_.

And then all of a sudden, one Friday night, there was a knock on his front door.

Marcus wasn’t home that night, for once he’d actually gone to the boyfriend’s house instead keeping them all awake there. Theo wasn’t entirely sure who it could be outside but he pulled the door open anyways.

Hermione Granger was standing on his front step, in a thick hooded jumper and baggy grey joggers – far too warm for a rather balmy June evening. Her hair was in a messy bun on the top of her head, coils springing free in all directions. There were still tear stains streaked down her cheeks and she hiccupped softly as Theo looked her over.

“Hermione?” He asked, more shocked than anything that after two months with no contact she would show up on his front step, shaking with tears and nearly sagging where she stood.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled, lifting a hand up to scrub at her cheeks with the heel of her palm. “I… I didn’t know where else to go. I’m probably imposing, I can…”

Theo shook his head and reached out, tugging her into the flat. “Come in, please.” He urged, and shut the door behind her. It took him a minute but finally he got her seated on the couch, holding a cup of tea, with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “Okay,” he said, sitting down on the couch next to her. “Tell me what happened?”

Hermione hiccupped again and took a drink of tea, sighing softly and finally leaning back against the couch. She shook her head softly but finally took a breath so she could speak. “You didn’t see _The Prophet_ this morning?”

Once again, Theo shook his head. “No. It’s all rubbish.” He mumbled, and Hermione managed a tiny smile.

“Right. Well. Skeeter published a story today with a… rather disgusting picture. C-” she hiccupped again. “Cormac MacLaggan caught me outside of the Leaky the other day. He… He pulled me into an alley way and I couldn’t grab my wand out fast enough and he,” Hermione finally shook her head and burst into tears. Theo frowned at the situation and leaned over, wrapping his arms around her and letting her cry it out against his shoulder.

“Did he hurt you?”

Hermione shook her head against his body. “He just… touched my breast, and… And then I decked him and he stepped back and I disapparated.”

Theo let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Okay,” he whispered, relief flooding his system. “Okay, good. What else happened?” There was no way a single picture could leave her in tears like this, even despite the horrible situation around it. Theo might not have seen her much recently, but he knew that Hermione wasn’t usually this affected.

It took her a minute to continue, but finally – after a bit more tea and a few more deep breaths – she did. “Cormac is saying that… that we were together. That he has photos of me he’s going to release.” Theo frowned at this but before he could press on Hermione finished her sentence. “Naked photos.”

“Oh shit.” Theo breathed, and Hermione nodded.

“Which he _doesn’t_! I was never with him, I went on a date with him once in school but, it was just horrid, Theo. I would never let him take… take pictures like that. He’s lying but… _The Prophet_ doesn’t care because it sells papers.”

She was crying again and Theo tightened his arms around her a little, deciding it wasn’t worth it to fight the instinct to want to protect her. No one would know anyways. “I’m so sorry, Hermione. What did… what did your friends have to say about it?”

Hermione scoffed at this and finally sat up and away from him, and he was instantly aware of how cool it was without her body up against hers. “Harry’s out of the country right now. Ron…” she sighed and shook her head. “He got mad at me, said that… that I should just ignore _The Prophet_ because it doesn’t matter. I know that but it just… it’s just too much. I work so, so hard. I’m doing good work, Theo. Work that could change people’s lives. I already helped _save_ their lives once. And… and what do I get? A nosy reporter who wants to write about how all I do is seduce men to get ahead? Who has a _running hit list_ of the number of men I’ve been with? And on top of _all_ of that-” Hermione paused, closed her eyes, and pushed forward. “I haven’t slept with anyone in more than three months. And the only person that I’ve… _wanted_ to sleep with…”

Her voice trailed off then and Theo frowned, leaning forward, holding his breath.

Finally, she opened her eyes, looked up at him, and placed a hand on his cheek. “Is _you_.”

Theo swallowed hard and before he could stop himself, remind himself that she was in a vulnerable position and this was _absolutely not the time_ , he leaned forward and captured her lips with his own. Hermione reacted instantly, her own hand snaking around the back of his neck to keep him close, her lips warm and responsive against his own. Theo plucked the tea from her fingers and set it on the coffee table and then shifted them so her body was flat on the couch and he was on top of her.

At some point, the door opened and Theo did his best to ignore the sounds of Marcus-and-beaux as they crashed through the house. Too much to ask, he supposed, for them to give him this _one night_ in peace.

“Hey Theo, did you- oh _shit_!” Marcus had clearly noticed him.

“What? What oh shit?”

“He’s got a _girl_!”

“Quick, Marc, don’t want to interrupt, _be safe kids_!” Called a voice with a vaguely Scottish accent, and then there was laughter, and a door slamming, and silence.

Theo pulled back and winced down at her. “Sorry, my…”

“I don’t care. Maybe… maybe we should move to your room?” Hermione’s voice was tentative but clear and there was a fire in her eyes that set Theo’s skin ablaze.

“Yes. Yes, definitely.”

* * *

Theo awoke the next morning with sore muscles and a feeling of deep contentment settled into his bones. As he pulled himself out of dreamland, he registered a head resting on his chest, curled hair ticking against his skin, and thin legs tangled up with his own.

“Morning, sleepy.” He whispered, and Hermione shifted slightly against him and then turned her head around so she could look up at him.

Her face heated but she grinned as well. “Hello.”

“Did you sleep alright?”

Hermione nodded and sighed in contentment. “Yes. This was… brilliant. Exactly what I needed. I needed to just get away from it all, you know? Remember that I’m more than just a person whose private life has been sold to the public. More than a Ministry employee on a mission.”

“You’re much more than either of those things.” Theo mumbled, and leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. He was starting to register that she was more than just those things, but she was also more than _him_. It was easy enough, the night before, for him to put it all out of his mind. All the thoughts of _bad idea_ and _you’re going to hurt her_ and _you were basically on the wrong side_ had seemed to dissipate when she looked up and him and told him that she _wanted_.

Now, in the clear morning light, he was remembering them all. Remembering Pansy patting his arm consolingly and saying that his parents never would have approved. Remembering Draco rolling his eyes and pointing out that he would never be good enough for her, not really. Even Greg had nodded sagely and gestured at his arm; despite his clear skin, Theo knew the point he was making.

Hermione stood though, slowly, and stretched, and Theo couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down the expanse of dark skin from her shoulder to her hip. He licked his lips and remembered the way she had tasted, the way she had felt against him, and then forced himself out of bed as well.

“Breakfast, perhaps?” Hermione suggested, snagging one of his shirts from the back of a chair and pulling it over her head. She had pulled her underwear on too and was tying her hair back into a thick plait, and Theo thought briefly that he’d much rather just pull her back into bed and have her instead.

Hermione headed out to the kitchen and Theo tugged on a loose pair of joggers and then followed her out.

There was a knock on the door and Hermione looked up at him curiously. Theo shrugged and headed forward and Hermione stepped after him, still in the kitchen and yet clearly visible from the small front hall.

When Theo pulled the door open, he was blinded by the flash of a bulb and then someone was pushing the wood out of his hands. “Mr. Nott! Mr. Nott!” Theo gasped and stumbled back and the bulb flashed again and someone shouted “there’s Granger!” and then quickly, before he had the chance to react, Hermione slashed her hand through the air and the door swung shut with a bang.

“What the _bloody hell_ was that?!” Hermione shouted, as Theo turned, still blinking the light out of his eyes, impressed with the way she’d shut the door both wandlessly and nonverbally.

Theo shook his head, lifting his hands up in a mock gesture of surrender. “I don’t… I’m not-”

“I _trusted_ you!” Hermione yelled, tears welling up in her eyes and face flushing dark with anger, hands curling into fists. “I _trusted_ you, I trusted that it was safe here. That they… that she…” Hermione was nearly incoherent in her frustration and she was shaking her head, wrapping her arms around her body. “How could you?”

“What? You think I called Skeeter?” Theo retorted, anger suddenly starting to bubble up in his own chest. “Why the fuck would I do something like that?”

Hermione scoffed, derisive and mean. “Let’s see. So that you could show the world that you got to… to bed me too? So you could brag to your little friends about how far the _Gryffindor golden girl_ has fallen?”

“I don’t give a shit about any of that.” Theo said, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I never should have… I should have known. Sleep with a _snake_ and you’re sure to get bitten.”

Theo nearly snapped at this, stepping closer to her. “This is all because I’m a Slytherin? You don’t trust me because… because a fucking hat decided I was more ambitious than reckless? Do you know how fucked up that is?”

Hermione was shaking her head, stuffing her feet into her shoes despite the fact that she was only wearing a button up shirt and a small pair of underwear. “I don’t know what your motivations were. Maybe I’m good for business. Maybe I’m good for your _reputation_.”

Theo was about to protest again when Hermione lifted her hand and nearly shouted _accio_ and her wand flew through the air from the bedroom. Despite the anger that he felt, a small piece of him wanted to marvel at the strength of her wandless magic. Before he could say anything else she had sniffed and turned on her heel and then she was gone.

* * *

It didn’t take Theo long to figure out what had happened. When she left he had dropped down onto the sofa, head in his hands, trying to work out what had gone wrong. She had just assumed it was him, figured he would betray her like that because of what? Because of a stupid system of sorting that set them on different life paths forever? Because she never truly trusted him to begin with?

Eventually, Marcus emerged from his room.

“Where’d the girl go?” He asked, as he made his way down the stairs towards the kitchen.

Theo narrowed his eyes. “Was it _you_?” He asked, turning on his roommate. “Because nobody else knew she was here, Marcus, and from what it looked like the whole staff of _The Daily Prophet_ and _Witch Weekly_ were standing outside this morning when we got up.”

“What?” Marcus asked, finally turning to face Theo and blink down at him on the couch. “Why would _The Prophet_ give a shit about who you’re shagging?”

It took a minute for these words to sink in and Theo turned around so he could look at Marcus as well. “Wait, what?”

And then, a small voice from the bottom of the stairs alerted both of their attention to the man standing at the bottom of them, wringing his hands together. Theo hadn’t spent a lot of time around Oliver Wood, but from what he had done, he had never seen the man look so distraught before.

“It was me.”

“What the fuck?” Theo snapped, turning around now. Marcus crossed the living room in a few short strides to place his hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Ollie, what did you do?”

Oliver sighed and lifted a hand to rub at his face. “I… I didn’t mean to. I just couldn’t believe that it was _Hermione Granger_ on our couch. With _you_ -”

“Hermione _Granger_?!” Marcus jumped in, and Oliver shot a look at him in near exasperation.

“Obviously.” Theo managed to sigh, before turning back to Oliver and waiting for the rest of the response.

“Right, sorry. Anyways… Theo when you were in the bathroom I _floo_ ’d George just to see if he’d heard anything about it. And he was shocked and said he’d ask Ron. And, well, you know the Weasley’s, he was probably just blathering on about it in public…”

“Fuck!” Theo nearly shouted, standing up from the couch before realizing there was really nothing he could do and dropping back down onto it, dropping his head into his hands. “Fuck. She hates me now. She was… it was… It was _perfect_ , having her here. And I know I’m not good enough for her. I know that shit. But she thinks it was some Slytherin plot to, I don’t know, make my store more popular? Gryffindors and Slytherins just aren’t meant to…” before he could finish, the two men had dropped onto the couch beside him and were pulling at his arms, pushing him until he was sitting up.

Marcus glared down at him intently and waited for Theo to let out a sigh of acquiescence before speaking. “Listen to yourself, mate. You slept with her once. This isn’t some big fucking romance. You got laid and now she’s gone and you’re just going to have to man up and get on with it.”

Oliver shot him a look. “Not helping,” he hissed, before turning back to Theo. “Look. Don’t go spouting some bullshit about Gryffindors and Slytherins not being compatible. Look at Marcus and I? Or Pansy-”

“How do _you_ know about that?” Theo mumbled, and Marcus laughed.

“Mate, do you even ever read her letters?”

Theo sighed and shook his head no.

“Right. Okay. So here’s what we’re going to do...”

* * *

The month wore on in a series of rainy days and sleepless nights. Despite Marcus and Oliver’s attempts to cheer him up (as well as Draco and Blaise’s, which were even less useful) nothing really seemed to help. Just like Hermione had said, there were pictures across the front of every major Wizarding newspaper and magazine the next day of a shocked looking shirtless Theo and a terrified looking pants-less Hermione.

**_WAR HEROINE HALF NAKED WITH DEATH EATER’S SON – WHAT COULD SHE HAVE TO GAIN?_ **

The headlines didn’t stop and it took nearly two weeks for the media buzz to die down. Theo had to stun a reporter before they stopped coming to his shop and he had taken to _floo_ -ing up to his apartment so he didn’t have to go outside to get to the steps.

It was exhausting, and he was finally starting to realize exactly what Hermione went through every day. She managed to stay out of the news for nearly an entire month and Theo did his best, with the help of Draco’s good firewhiskey and Marcus’s insistence on going flying over the sea every day, to try and forget the way her skin felt against his own, the way she had tasted, the way she had moved under him.

It only kind of worked.

And then, one day, when he was finally starting to think that he could probably live without her, that he didn’t _want_ to deal with someone who had that circus following after them, that he could never really be with someone who resorted to insulting his house the first chance they got, the bell over the shop door chimed.

Theo sighed and set aside the papers he had been working on, trying to balance the books for that month. He headed into the front of the shop and even before he turned the corner he could see a cloud of dark curly hair peeking out around a bookshelf and his heart caught in his chest and he glanced down at the traitorous thing before he steeled himself and stepped into the open area.

“Granger.” He greeted, carefully, and Hermione turned towards him and winced softly.

“Theo.” She said, looking down at a book in her hands. “I, um, brought you this.” It was clearly an old book, and Theo turned it over in his hands as she passed it to him. Slowly he cracked the cover open and swallowed _hard_ as he read over the title.

“Hermione,” he said this time, voice almost choked. “This is a… this is the _Second Folio_ … this is… this is from _1632,_ the second ever copy of Shakepeare’s completed works, this…” he was so speechless Hermione couldn’t help but grin a little.

“It’s not in perfect condition, of course. Though it is quite good. I recently ran into a rather large sum of money from work and I managed to find a copy of the _First Folio_ on auction so I-”

Theo choked again. “Do you know how much this is worth?!”

Hermione grinned up at him. “Nearly half a million pounds, I’m sure.” She said, with a small nod. “Though the _First_ was much more, of course. But either way, I noticed you didn’t have a copy of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and it’s one of my favourites, and it’s in there. And you’re an antique bookstore, so I figured-”

Theo was shaking his head, holding the book out towards her. “Hermione,” he said, finally. “This is too much. I can’t accept this.”

Hermione nearly rolled her eyes at him. “I’m giving it to you, Theo. Independent of… anything else I have to say today. I no longer have use for it and even apart from this week, I’m nearly swimming in galleons as it is – as soon as you mention to the ministry that you gave up your childhood and nearly _died_ for them, suddenly the money appears.” She sounded bitter and Theo frowned, then set the book down very very carefully on the table beside him.

“Was there… something else?” He asked, finally, deciding it wasn’t worth the argument. She could be nothing if not stubborn.

Hermione took a breath and then pulled her shoulders back, looking up into his eyes. “Theo. I wanted to apologize,” she began, and managed a small smile. “For the way I behaved, the other week. I… I spoke to the boys and it turns out it was probably Ron’s fault, that you had nothing to do with it. I was… too quick to judge you, and the way I treated you simply was not appropriate or fair.”

Theo nodded and managed to return her smile. “I shouldn’t have underestimated how difficult it is for you. Reporters followed me around for weeks and it was exhausting, and… and I really am sorry.”

Her small smile turned to a grin as he said this and she stepped closer. “I know I’m not perfect, Theo. I’m… I can be a little reckless sometimes. I don’t always notice when I’m stepping on people. I work far too much and I see no problem with telling people what to do, if they need to be told. I’m… according to the media, I’m a _whore_ , and I’m still a war heroine, the Gryffindor golden girl, but.” She paused, stepped closer again, looking up into his eyes, and Theo’s heart stopped. “But I’m also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him… asking him to love her.”

Theo reacted without meaning to, he stepped backwards and bumped into a chair and he swallowed hard as his heart began to pound. “Hermione,” he said, almost warningly, and she frowned and started to step closer to him again – but he held up his hand to stop her.

“Don’t be an idiot, Granger. I’m no good for you.”

Hermione frowned at this. “What?” She asked, blinking up at him, trying to wrap her mind around what he had just said. Theo was breathing deeply now, clearly trying to figure out what to say to stop this. They had barely spent much time together and he had already been falling in love with her then, and then he spent ages trying to pull himself back out of it. They weren’t right, they wouldn’t work, and he couldn’t help but wish she had come a few weeks earlier when he still might have taken her word and leapt.

“Look. I can’t handle a life in the public eye, not like you do. I moved out of London to… to get away from it all. And you just have to take one look at the newspapers from the past few weeks to know what would happen. I may not… may not have been marked, but my hands aren’t exactly clean either. My father is in Azkaban. I was a _Slytherin_. You…” he took a breath and forced himself to look at her, to look into her big brown eyes. “You deserve better than the son of a Death Eater.”

She was still frowning, shaking her head as he spoke. “Theo, I don’t _care_! We can figure it out, the public thing. I… I have a big press conference tomorrow, about the work that I’ve been doing, but then we can disappear and find a way to never be in the papers again. I don’t… I don’t _care_ , isn’t that obvious? I just, the time I spent with you was the happiest I have been in years. You make me feel safe, and like I can handle all of it. You… I don’t know how or why but you mean more to me than anyone has meant in a long time, can’t you see that?”

Theo shook his head now, turning away from her. “Hermione.” He paused, sighed. “Granger. Please just… just go.” He couldn’t turn back to watch as she fell apart, her shoulders dropping and her breath hitching as she swallowed down a sob. He couldn’t watch as she spared him one last glance, and then turned and left the store, as she disapparated away. When he was sure she was gone, he dropped down into the chair at the small table beside him, rested his head on the smooth wooden surface, and cried for the first time in years.

* * *

It took him eighteen hours to realize his mistake.

Marcus had come home in the morning and found him on the couch, a very old book lying on his chest, and his eyes rimmed red from lack of sleep and overuse. It only took Marcus ten minutes to figure out what had happened and slap Theo upside the head.

By the time Theo had showered, changed into clean clothes, and stumbled back into the living room, Marcus and Oliver were standing with their arms crossed beside the fireplace.

“Draco is waiting for you in the Manor. He’ll get you into the Ministry to the conference.”

Theo sighed and looked between them again. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Don’t be a fuckin’ idiot!” Oliver snapped, grabbing Theo’s hand and a handful of _floo_ powder at the same time. “Go get your girl.” And with a rough shove and a shouted destination, Theo found himself tripping out of the fireplace in the Malfoy’s large anteroom, face to face with a _very_ irate Draco.

“I would like it clear that I am _only_ doing this because you have been an absolute miserable sod the past three months and I am, quite simply, sick of it.”

“Are you sure this is-“”

“I’m not going to talk you into it, Theo, so don’t bother asking. Let’s go, I’ll take you through the staff entrance and we’ll get in much more quickly.”

Theo shut up at this and instead let Draco grab his arm, wincing as they _apparated_ and trying not to stumble when they landed in the staff apparation area at the Ministry.

“Right.” Draco said, dusting his hands together as he let go of Theo. “It’s just right through there, I believe. I have no clue what it’s about because I do not care about the woman or her work, so let’s just hope she sees you and decides not to hex you.” Theo turned to look back at Draco but the man was already walking briskly back to the point and all he managed was a smile at his friend’s back.

When he pulled open the doors to the large room, he was met with a huge crowd of reporters, most of whom he had never seen before. Someone was introducing themselves as being from the _Bulgarian Potioneers Quarterly_ and Theo slipped into the middle of the crowd as he listened.

From what he gathered, Hermione – who was sitting next to her apparent business partner Neville Longbottom – had devised a way to make aconite grow both sustainably and cheaply through the clever use of charms and potions mixed with the plant itself. They had also seemingly struck a deal with the Ministry because of the now significantly lowered cost of manufacturing wolfsbane they would ensure that werewolves across the countrywould be able to receive the potion for free - and they were already in talks with MACUSA and other Ministries across Europe. Both Neville and Hermione looked significantly pleased with themselves, if a little awkward to be at the centre of so much attention, and Theo felt his heart swell as he watched the two of them.

“Ms. Granger,” someone was asking, holding their wand to their throat for voice projection. “Anna Scott here from Witch Weekly. What are your plans now that you’ve completed this important work?”

Hermione shifted a little and glanced at Neville, then back at the woman. “I’m… not quite sure. I think I might step back a little from work, and go somewhere where I can be out of the media spotlight for a little while.”

“Ms. Granger,” a familiar voice piped up, and Theo frowned as he turned and realized who was speaking. “Rita Skeeter from _The Daily Prophet_. I was wondering if you had anything to say about the pictures that surfaced a month or so ago, where you were caught half naked with a Death Eater. How is that going for you?”

Theo could see the way Hermione clenched her teeth from where she was sitting. “First of all, he was not a _Death Eater._  Secondly, I… there’s nothing to say. He was someone who I thought… he’s just someone who I used to know.”

“Ms. Granger,” Theo couldn’t help himself, and he was speaking and stepping forward a little before his brain had fully registered what was happening. “This… individual… would you ever give him another chance?”

Hermione frowned and tried to peer around the crowd and the blinding lights to get a better look at who was speaking. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?” She asked, and then paused. “As for the question, well… I’m not entirely sure.”

Theo cleared his throat and stepped forward again.

“Sir, only one question-”

“Please,” Theo muttered to the man directing the entire operation. “I’ll be quick. She wanted to know my name.”

The man sighed, but gestured for Theo to carry on anyways.

“Theo Nott,” he began, finally moving to a place where she could see him. “From, ah… _Antique Books_ …” He paused, and grinned up at her. “What if… what if this man said he was wrong, and that he wished he could go back and… and change everything? What if he reminded you that… that _the course of true love never did run smooth_ , and-” Hermione was grinning back at him now, and Theo stepped forward once again.

“That’s _him_!” Rita Skeeter gasped, and Theo ignored her completely.

“And that he was rather in love with you, himself?”

Hermione grinned down at him from where she sat, and then she was standing, moving around the table after a nod of _go ahead_ from Neville, who was also smiling as the situation unfolded.

“Ms. Scott?” Hermione called, glancing around for the woman who was watching with rapture on your face. “Would you ask your question again, please?”

The woman cleared her throat and nodded. “Ms. Granger, what are you planning to do now?”

Hermione was standing in front of Theo now, and she slipped a hand down to take one of his in her own, looking into his eyes the whole time. “I’m running away with the man I love.” And then, with a turn of her heel and a loud _crack_ , they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's all she wrote, folks! I would love to hear your thoughts on this - so please, if you want, leave a comment down below. It means the world to me. <3
> 
> Again, much much much love to nymphadoraholtzmann for beta-ing and also for coming up with this entire idea and supporting me the whole time I was writing it. <3 <3 <3
> 
> If you like my writing, check out my [fic giveaway on tumblr!](http://hexmionegranger.tumblr.com/post/156148017123/hexmionegranger-hexmionegrangers-first-ever-fic)
> 
> Quote citation!  
>  _The course of true love never did run smooth_  
>  \- is, of course, from A Midsummer Night's Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Literally all of the credit for this whole thing goes to nymphadoraholtzmann. It was her idea, her plot smoothing, her beta work, she read the whole thing and sent me encouraging messages, and most of all she's just the best, tbh.
> 
> Also, I mean, a lot of credit to the people who wrote Notting Hill because..... that's pretty much all this is. Like. With a minor handful of differences but I followed the plot pretty closely whatever sue me (actually please please don't I am really broke).
> 
> This got a LOT out of hand so I split it into two parts - part two will most likely be coming tomorrow!
> 
> If you like my writing, check out [the giveaway](http://hexmionegranger.tumblr.com/post/156148017123/hexmionegranger-hexmionegrangers-first-ever-fic) I'm having on tumblr! I'm giving away a fic! Er, my time writing a fic of your choosing, anyways.
> 
> And the fun part, quote citation!  
>  _“Never give all the heart, for love will hardly seem worth thinking of to passionate women if it seem certain, and they never dream that it fades out from kiss to kiss, for everything that’s lovely is but a brief, dreamy, kind delight.”_  
>  \- Never Give All the Heart by William Butler Yeats
> 
> _"The snake which cannot cast its skin has to die. As well, the minds which are prevented from changing their opinions; they cease to be mind."_  
>  \- is, of course, Nietzsche. we should probably start a tally with how many times I use this quote in a Slytherdor ship fic...


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